Where Art Thou, O Chicken?
by doroniasobi
Summary: Marui's got the chicken pox, and Niou has the perfect explanation to go with it. — Marui, Niou


Where Are Thou, O Chicken?

Marui hated getting sick. He hated it a lot more than he did homework, which was a whole lot of hate right there. He hated staying home and missing school – not that he particularly _liked_ it – but part of the reason was that he missed at least two days at a time, and that Niou – whom Marui addressed 'stupid evil meanie' – always complained about being too lazy to give him the day's homework. And then Marui would have yet another piece of paper for homework. Marui didn't much like Niou when he was snickering at him.

Marui's mother always said to him, "If you have time for yapping, then you have time for homework. It's the same thing; the only difference is that you're making the same kind of movement with your pencil. Now get working, young man." And Marui loved his mother. He believed her, too. So Marui wished that Niou, for once, would just put his mouth where his laziness was because then maybe Marui wouldn't have to do extra pages of homework the night after and suffer.

But now, Marui didn't think it could get any worse.

He stood in front of the mirror, mouth wide open for the last few hours, staring at his reflection while reaching up to scratch his face. What the _heck_? Why in the world were there red spots all over his skin? Marui glowered at his reflection and scratched his arm. If Niou had anything – _anything_ – to do with this, Marui would make sure he would die a painful, painful death and then afterwards, he'd eat candy in front of his grave to make his ghost jealous.

His mother walked in his room, having planned to wake him up, but once she saw that he'd woken himself up, she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. "Bunta, no, you are not going to try my lipstick on. Now hurry up and get ready for school."

Marui turned around with a wide-eyed expression and his mother's eyes widened too. Marui let out a whimper and scratched his cheek furiously. "Mom," he began slowly. He'd grown out of the habit of saying 'Mommy' like many other second graders did and declared that to be a big boy, he needed to start calling her 'Mother'. Of course, his mother got rather peeved, because what middle-aged woman likes being called 'Mother' at the age of 32? And Marui was only currently seven. So after a long discussion, he finally settled for 'Mom'.

"Mom, what's wrong with me?"

His mother came in the room and observed his face. "Lift your shirt up," she instructed, and he did, slightly confused and itchy. "Bunta, I think you have chicken pox."

Marui looked up, aghast, his arm reaching behind him to scratch his back. "I have chickens? Is that bad?"

His mother smiled a little bit and shook her head. "No, it's what all little boys have to go through these days." Marui glared at her use of 'little boy', and she quickly corrected herself: "Big boys. Big boys," she repeated, giving her son a straight face.

Marui seemed satisfied, but then winced and rubbed at his face. "It itches," he complained.

"Well, you can't go to school today," his mother reasoned, patting Marui's cheek and making her way down the stairs.

Marui almost screamed at this. He followed her, wanting answers. "What? Why?" His lower lip quivered – no school meant more homework. And Marui didn't like homework.

"Having the chicken pox means you're sick, Bunta," his mother explained, sliding her feet in slippers and going in the kitchen. Marui followed again, his bare feet tapping against the cold floor. "When you're sick, you shouldn't go to school. You'll probably get the other kids sick, too."

Marui tried to protest. "But I'm fine!" he said, squirming. He refused to itch. "I can go to school. Niou will tell me homework, it's not a problem."

"Didn't you say that Niou always lied to you about homework and if not, was too lazy to give it to you? It's not that I don't love the kid, Bunta, but I don't think he's a reliable person when it comes to homework."

"I didn't say that!" he lied, using his sleeve to scratch his forehead. "I said he was a person who _was_ reliable. You didn't hear me right."

"Marui Bunta, you are staying home from school today. I'm going to give them a call right now, so you stay put."And she reached for the phone and began to dial, having memorized the school's number already. She held the phone to the ear and pointed at him. "And then we are going to the doctor's."

Marui's brain didn't work the best in the morning, and so he didn't have a plan to prevent his mother from calling the school. Then he scratched his face again and wondered if he could use his mother's large set of makeup to cover up the red blotches to avoid missing school.

Marui's complaining didn't shake his mother. It never did, but he kept trying, simply because he believed in miracles.

* * *

He'd come home from the doctor, complaining and whining about homework, and his mother only rolled her eyes in response. She knew what he was getting at; having work piled up could be a pain. But did he have to go so far as to stick his tongue out at the doctor and call him a 'fat meanie'?

"Bunta," she scolded, fishing for her keys in her pocket for the car door, "calling someone a 'fat meanie' isn't very nice."

"But he _is_ fat."

"That's called being rude."

"So I can't call him fat, even if he is fat?"

"No."

"But then I'd be lying, right? And you said before that lying isn't good."

"Being rude is also bad."

"So which one should I be? Rude or bad?"

"Don't bother trying to be either. Now get in the car," she said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

Marui was itchy. The doctor did say something about being itchy and trying not to scratch, but if one is itchy, then one can not help but scratch, right? Marui's nails attacked his legs, running them both up and down furiously.

Then, the doorbell rang.

"Buntaaa! Come out to plaaaay!"

Marui rolled over on the sofa. He rolled off the sofa and walked sluggishly to the door. Then he opened it and was greeted by a wide, devilish smirk that Marui knew to be Niou's.

"What happened to your face? And your arms? And your legs?"

"The doctor says I have chicken pox," Marui grumbled. "Did you bring me my homework?"

Niou ignored the second statement. His eyes widened. "What's chicken pox?"

"I don't know."

Niou invited himself in and looked around suspiciously. "You have a chicken?"

"I have chicken pox," Marui repeated. "But no, I don't have a chicken."

Niou ignored him still. "Why didn't you tell me you had a chicken? That's how you got those polka dots on your face, right? That's why it's called chicken pox, right?"

"I don't know," Marui said again.

Niou was still staring at him. "Do those dots hurt?"

"No. They're itchy." Marui demonstrated by scratching his cheek, and Niou squinted. Marui could see the gears in his brain working. When Niou was thinking while squinting, it was never a good sign. And then Niou finished squinting and thinking and his face lit up.

"Let's go find the chicken!"

Marui's eyes grew. "But I don't have any!"

"But the only real reason you got the chicken cold is because of a chicken, right?"

"It's the chicken pox," Marui corrected, and he did have to say, for once, that Niou's current train of thought actually made some sense. If he didn't get the chicken pox from a chicken, then how else did he get them?

"Whatever," Niou said, waving his hand in the air to disregard it. But then his eyes brightened. "Let's go find that chicken!"

Marui scratched his arm, and then raised it in the air with a wide grin. "Yeah!"

* * *

"Niou, be careful. We're not supposed to be in this room."

"Shut up and start looking. I don't hear anything down here, but let's keep looking."

"It's pitch black, Niou. I can't see a thing."

"Fine, hearing. Whatever. Just shut up and listen, alright?"

It was silent for a moment. Then:

"What sound does a chicken make again?"

A groan. "It sounds like you, okay? Now just shut up. I'm listening."

"... Hey! And since when did you start listening? Ever?"

"Marui, you shut up before I cut your head off."

"Fine! ...Oh wait, I think I heard something."

"Really? Ow, stop stepping on my foot!"

"Stop putting your foot wherever I step!"

"Where's the light for this place anyway?"

"I don't know, I told you, I've never been in this room before. Now my mom's going to get mad."

"Marui, I will –"

"Fine! I'm shutting up, okay? Jeez."

"...So, where the heck are we now?"

"In my room."

"This is your room?"

"Yes. What else did you think it was, a pig sty?"

"Ye –"

"Never mind. Shut up."

* * *

"I think the chicken got outside or something," Niou said solemnly, crossing his arms. Marui was staring at him, thinking that this was the only time he'd seen Niou looking really smart.

"I don't think we had a chicken in the first place. And my mom said that everyone gets it anyway. The chicken pox, I mean." Marui sighed and flopped back on the couch.

Niou was insistent. "Then how else could you have gotten the chicken pox? I haven't had it before. And my mom didn't say anything about her having chicken pox when she was smaller." Niou grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at Marui.

Marui sighed. "I want cake."

"Glutton," Niou snickered; he had always been proud of his vocabulary – and Marui shot him a glare before reaching behind to scratch. Then Niou stood up and yawned. "I'm going to the washroom."

Marui watched him as Niou went away, so he was alone to wonder whether or not there was an actual chicken in his house. It was difficult fighting off curiosity, so Marui looked under the sofa, saw nothing, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Cluck."

Marui snapped his head up, ignoring the crack that he heard and the pain that he felt rushing after. His eyes were wide. Then he began shouting.

"Niou! Niou! Niou! There's a chicken in the house! Niou! _Niou_! Chicken! It's here!"

Marui ran off to tell his mother. And Niou poked his head out from behind the wall and snickered.

"I knew he'd fall for that."

* * *

_Owari_

_2009.10.25_


End file.
